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The Bible Tells Me

I’m not the Bible scholar I should be. I know some verses; not as many as I ought. Still, I find most of my experiences can be framed or underscored, explained or illuminated, by Scripture. Or maybe a hymn or a worship song, a devotional or a testimony. Frequently, I have those “Oh, yeah” moments when I see God clearly in an event. Or realized that I should have seen Him.

These are the moments of “The Bible tells me.”

These essays reflect that. Do know that I can proof-text as well as anyone. I have a concordance, and I know how to use it. Well, truthfully, I do all of that online now, where I can quickly find a passage, see it in many versions, and choose the one I like best. I try not to be narrow, but instead broad, as I apply Bible words to my experiences. I know that your interpretations and understanding may be different than mine. But I also know that our God is big enough for all of us.

I have a friend who, in her prayer time, likes to tell jokes to God. “I know He knows the punch line,” she says. “But I tell them anyway. He likes it when I laugh.”

He likes it when I laugh. I’m going to hang on to that. It’s Biblical. The Bible tells me.

Our mouths were filled with laughter then,
and our tongues with shouts of joy.
Then they said among the nations,
“The Lord has done great things for them.”
The Lord had done great things for us;
we were joyful.

Psalm 126: 2,3 (HCSB)

And I’m Just Finally Getting Rid of the Last of the Fall Leaves

| Faithfulness, Joy, Patience

Wow. It’s already spring. Sort of.

Officially, the last “average” freeze date for Waco is March 12. We’ve had freezes ‘way into April, but that’s unusual, and I’m impatient. Also, I don’t usually plant really tender things. (I did buy a bougainvillea last week, and it will need to come into the house if the temperature plummets in the next few weeks.)

I’ve talked before about fall raking, and other yard stuff.  There were lots of leaves, and I raked all of them up. Most of them went into big black trash bags, because the green bins that hold yard waste are only emptied every other week on trash day, so there’s a limit to how many leaves can get carted away to be mulched. I put all those extra leaves in those trash bags. Every other week, in addition to whatever weeds and sticks and things that have been damaged by the few frosts we’ve had,  I emptied one or more of those black bags into the green bins. Every other week, through the fall and winter.

This Thursday, after a rather epic rainfall the day before, I thought  I could probably get the last of the bags of leaves emptied into the green bins.

And now, behind the shed, there are ten bags of dirt to spread around in the low places at the back of the yard. They’d been in the car’s trunk for a while. I’d gotten them at a local nursery and hadn’t taken the time to move them. Today, with that space behind the shed now empty, I thought I should transfer them. I’m not all that strong, so it was a one-at-a-time situation. I got the wheelbarrow out of the shed, pushed it up to the garage, opened up the car’s trunk, and pulled and tugged at one of the bags. I got it out of the trunk and into the wheelbarrow, and wheeled it across the back yard and around to the back of the shed, and dumped the 40-pound sack onto the ground. Then, I pushed the empty barrow back up to the garage, and so on. At this point, all ten bags are behind the shed, waiting for a warm day when things have dried up a bit after the several rainy days we’ve had.

 

 Ask the Lord for rain in the spring, for he makes the storm clouds.
And he will send showers of rain so every field becomes a lush pasture

Zechariah 10:1 (New Living Translation)

 

Just this week, several trees have begun leafing out. There are trees with the mistiness of new leaves around them, and a tree that produces purple flowers before the leaves pop out is shimmering with beauty. The trees in my yard are still bare, with leaves that appear later than some others. But it won’t be long.

I’m No Meteorologist,

| Love, Patience

therefore, I don’t know all of the intricate ins and outs of weather. For example, Thursday was pretty nice (rather chilly in the morning, but almost balmy in the afternoon). Whereas, on Wednesday, the wind was epic horrid! (I looked it up at Dictionary.com and this is the appropriate use of “epic.” “Epically,” which I wanted to use, is not an actual word.)

When I look out my kitchen window, I can see, through the back hedge, the red windsock in the yard of the neighbors behind me. When I’m thinking of working outside, I check to see what the wind sock’s doing. Wednesday, the sun was shining, but I knew that the temperature wasn’t all that high. I checked the windsock, which was straining, straight out from the pole, with its little streamers frantically fluttering.

I had a podiatrist appointment at 8:15. I was one of the first patients to arrive, but there aren’t any “right by the door” parking spaces. After rushing from car door to clinic door, I was shivering when I reached the entrance, and stayed shivering. I did have to remove my coat for a blood pressure check, but then I put it right back on. I was sorry I hadn’t brought a blanket. The visit was just a quick checkup, so, in no time, I had to walk back out the door and over to my car, and was back to shivering. I drove straight home, parked the car in the garage, went into the house, and stayed there.

From the National Weather Service National Headquarters information on Wednesday’s weather:

WEATHER CONDITIONS
THE FOLLOWING WEATHER WAS RECORDED YESTERDAY.
NO SIGNIFICANT WEATHER WAS OBSERVED.

“No significant weather?” The largest limbs on the bare, bare trees were bending and blowing in the giant wind!

If we studied wind in some science unit in school, I didn’t get it. I don’t exactly know what makes wind. Or breezes. Or gusts. I did look up and read an article (which was designed for children), and here it is, so you, too can better understand why the largest limbs were swaying uncharacteristically on Wednesday.

What causes windy weather?

 

Praise the Lord from the earth, sea monsters and all ocean depths; lightning and hail, snow and clouds, strong winds that obey his command. Praise him, hills and mountains, fruit trees and forests; all animals, tame and wild, reptiles and birds. Praise him, kings and all peoples, princes and all other rulers; young women and young men, old people and children too. Let them all praise the name of the Lord! His name is greater than all others; his glory is above earth and heaven.

Psalm 148:7-13 (Good News Translation)

 

 

Meanwhile, Tuesday was a lovely day, and I was part of a group that visited the Hebrew Rest cemetery here. It’s a quiet and lovely place, with families who have been part of Waco’s past for generations. As I walked around, I found three separate burial sites for families who last name was “Cinnamon.” I’d never heard that as a last name before.

 

I found these side-by-side sentiments quite touching. Cemeteries aren’t what they used to be.

 

Sometimes, I Forget It’s Thursday

| Love, Patience

This hasn’t been a normal week. (Yeah, I know, lots of folks never have a normal week.)

Monday was a holiday, and a very nice day, and I worked outside all day.

Tuesday, I got a text from a friend that I’m helping with car pool. The message said to please pick the student up at 10:00 a.m. instead of 7:40 a.m. That worked, because, even though on Tuesdays, I have Reading Club responsibility at the elementary school close to my church, that gave me plenty of time. Then, as I was on my way for the 10:00 pickup, another text said that the kid was coughing and seemed sick, so they were on their way to Urgent Care. Later, my friend said that she had taken the student to school (after the Urgent Care visit), and could I pick her up at 4:15, because there was tutoring she needed to attend. And I was glad to hear that, because I’m taking a class (through Baylor, for senior adults) that ends at 3:00 and it’s rather a rush to get to school for car pool. Then, while I was in that class, I got another text that said another friend was picking up the student, because Urgent Care had called and said that she had Flu and Strep. So not only was she going home, but she would be at home all week.

Tuesday, David was gone until really late, working on the local Science Fair. Wednesday, he did that until noon, then raced around getting ready for the trip he was taking on Thursday. I took him to the car rental place Thursday morning. He’ll be back Friday.

It seemed like a good time to try to get better organized with all the photos, cards, and other ephemera I’ve been collecting. (While the definition of ephemera is “any transitory written or printed matters that are not meant to be retained or preserved,” that’s not exactly what happens. The word derives from the Greek ephemeros, meaning ‘lasting only one day, short-lived’.”  On the Google page where “ephemera” is defined, there is also a link to “How to organize ephemera.”) I put all the leaves in the dining table, piled up things by year, and put some things in an album. I used up all the pages and have had to order some more, so I can’t finish. (There is no way I am going to finish. Ever, it seems like.)

But I did divide up the rest of the ephemera by year and put them in Zip-Lock bags and labeled the bags with the year. So, I’ve got plenty of time tomorrow, well, maybe, to get the last things organized. (Not finished, but sort of organized.) Then, at some time in the future, after the ordered pages arrive, I’ll be able to get work done. Nothing like giving organized stuff that was supposed to last only one day a much longer lifespan.

Meanwhile, I lost track of what day it was. Any of the days. Without my normal routine, I was out of sync. More than usual. Several times during the day, I would think What’s today? Is it THURSDAY already? And, yes, it was Thursday already. Which is “write a blog” day.

So I’m folding you in to my out-of-sync week. I’ve been working or organizing photos and stuff for albums that I will enjoy looking at years from now. I would enjoy knowing what you’ve been working on this week.

 

 And regardless of what else you put on, wear love. It’s your basic, all-purpose garment. Never be without it.

Colossians 3:14 (The Message)

There are certainly garments that are my favorites. A soft sweater, warm leggings, my flannel nightgown (There’s an entirely different list in August.) When I think of how they comfort me, I’m reminded to concentrate on that all-purpose garment of love.

 

I Went to a Funeral

| Faithfulness, Goodness, Joy

Last Tuesday, I went to a funeral for a man I’d never met. It seemed appropriate.

The Sunday edition of the Waco paper usually includes a half-page spread highlighting a local veteran. Several weeks ago, I noticed that the article covered a World War II vet, and those folks are few and far between these days. I read the first line, which said that this man grew up in Hillsboro, Texas, a town north of Waco, where my mother and her four older sisters grew up. I read on and saw that, when this man was in the service, he’d had the opportunity to run into his older brothers, also in the service. I didn’t know the man in the article, but I did recognize the name of one of his older brothers.

One of my mother’s older sisters was widowed when I was six. A couple of years later, she remarried, to one of those older brothers. That man was the nicest guy. I remember him as kind and gracious, and, he had this cabin on a lake. And he invited us to come. My family and another aunt’s family and possibly more of us. It was such great fun. The older cousins water skied, and we younger cousins played on the shore, wading at the lake’s edge and finding mussels and other rich, exciting items.

A couple of years after that, my aunt developed breast cancer and passed away. She was buried in the family plot of that kind man.

In a Christmas card, I sent that veteran’s article to my cousin who had been the kind man’s step-daughter for a few years. She phoned to thank me for it, and gave me some more information about the veteran in the article. My cousin’s older sister died a few years back. She had not wanted any funeral or any sort of to-do. She’d been divorced for many years, and there hadn’t been any thoughts or plans for a “final resting place.” This veteran, who was just as kind as his brother, insisted that my cousin’s sister be interred in his family’s plot. “She should be with her mother,” he said. And that is what they did.

That’s why I went to the funeral. I’d hoped to be able to chat with family members, but I was delayed leaving Waco, and there was pouring rain all the way from Waco to Hillsboro. When I did arrive, I found the parking lot packed with cars and the Marshal and Marshal funeral home packed with people. I was overwhelmed and reluctant to walk around asking, “Who are you? Are you a family member? What’s your name?” So, I went to the restroom. Then, I walked around the edges of the crowd and turned a corner and ran into a couple that had been members of my church a few years ago. We were all startled at this unexpected meeting.

Turns out, they grew up in Hillsboro, also. (If I had known that before, I’d forgotten it.) She said that she’d been best friends with the veteran’s daughter, spending more time at that house than her own. “And,” she said, “what’s your connection?” And I explained about the kind man and about the veteran’s insistence on providing a resting place for my cousin.

I said, “This is why I so strongly believe in the concept of Six Degrees of Separation. There are connections all over that we don’t realize. If every time I walked into a store or park or event, it would automatically generate little illuminated dotted lines to all the people I had a connection to, I could go introduce myself, and we could figure out how we’re connected.”

 

 Ask God to bless everyone who mistreats you. Ask him to bless them and not to curse them. When others are happy, be happy with them, and when they are sad, be sad. Be friendly with everyone. Don’t be proud and feel that you are smarter than others. Make friends with ordinary people.

Romans 12:14-16 (Contemporary English Version)

 

Based on the man that I knew and the stories and information I heard at the funeral, this sounds like the men in that Hillsboro family.

 

Now, I do understand that it was Hillsboro, the town were all my mother’s family grew up. So I might have expected to find someone with whom I might have had a connection  But here’s another example:

I have a son and daughter-in-law who live in Brooklyn. Sarah phoned me one Sunday afternoon with this story:

She was going to a friend’s shower and riding on a subway train that she didn’t usually travel on. When the doors opened, she stepped into the train and saw that there was only one empty seat. It was next to a man who looked very much like the actor Tony Hale. She sat down next to this man, took a deep, brave breath, and said to him, “You look a lot like Tony Hale.” And he said, “I am Tony Hale.”

Sarah and Tony Hale on the L train

Now that might seem pretty brash and maybe even invasive, but, there’s more. (Often, there’s more.) When Sarah first moved to New York, fresh out of TCU, she attended worship services at “The Haven,” a place for New Yorkers in the arts communities. A place that was started by . . . yes . . . Tony Hale. She walked into the subway car already having a connection with the actor. They had a nice chat about The Haven and people they knew, and, at one point, he said to her, “Nice bag,” referring to a large, quilted tote that she was carrying. She said, “My mother-in-law made it for me.” Tony Hale liked my bag! She asked if she could take a photo, and he said “yes.”

A year or so earlier, a local songwriter and singer made a movie based on his life and struggles, and how things turned out. Tony Hale was one of the actors in that movie, Sironia. That singer/songwriter and his family were members of my church, at the time. I’d had a couple of his kids in my Sunday School class. The Sunday after Sarah told me about sitting next to Tony Hale on the train, I ran into that songwriter’s wife. I told her about Sarah’s encounter. And she said, with great astonishment, “Tony Hale was riding the subway?!?!?”

But the most interesting thing is that I have two pathways, of only one person each, between me and Tony Hale. It’s like we’re BFFs.

 

It Doesn’t Happen Often, But When It Does . . .

| Joy, Peace

Waaaaaay back, one Saturday morning, the second winter after my family moved into our new house, we were awakened by the frantic ringing of our doorbell. All four of us were roused, and Daddy went to the door, where he found the boy from across the street, who gestured toward our front yard.

“It snowed,” he cried. Indeed. It had snowed. And he thought we would want to know about it. We so did.

Jimmy from across the street and JoAnne and I, and obviously, there’s a parent who got bundled up enough to come out and take photos

 

Here in Central Texas, we don’t have the proper clothing for snow. We don’t have boots. We don’t have water repellent gloves. Our coats aren’t made for Arctic blasts of wind.

So preparing for a morning of playing in the snow requires some creative thinking. As in, how many pairs of pants can you put on and still be able to bend your knees? How many layers of shirts, sweaters, and outerwear can you put on and still button up or zip up that last jacket? How many pairs of gloves can you find in the whole house so that you can put on several to delay the moisture that is going to soak in while you’re creating snowballs and/or a snowman?

And then there’s the process of putting on a thin pair of socks, which can be covered by plastic bags, and then a pair or two of heavier socks, and hoping that you’ll be able to squeeze all that into a pair of canvas shoes, because, really, your mom is NOT going to let you go out into all that snow (“all that snow” being a relative term) in your good school shoes. See previous comment about not having boots.

 

Thursday morning, just as I was rousing myself out of bed, David came in and said, “If you want to take pictures of the snow, you’d better take them now, before the sun comes up.” And I said, “It snowed?”

Yes, indeed. It snowed. Some folks might snicker about the presence of snow being such a big deal, but, it is. I took pictures.

 

This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.

Psalm 118:24 (New Revised Standard Version)

 

Every day is a day that the Lord has made. Some days are exciting, like a snow-covered day. Some days are more prosaic. I need to remember that each day is a day for rejoicing and being glad.

Sigh . . .

| Patience, Peace

A couple of weeks ago, I went out early on a Saturday morning to run some errands. I had some coupons for drug store and grocery store items. I went to Wal-Mart and spent some time there. Next I went on to Walgreen’s. (Those two places open up really early, so I can get those checked off my list and then go on to places that don’t open until 9:00 or 10:00. At least that was my plan.)

I pulled into the Walgreen’s parking lot and drove around to the parking area. I pulled in to an empty slot (and, since I was an early customer, there were plenty of available spaces), going slowly as I pulled up to the concrete barrier in front of the curb. I had my foot on the brake as I neared that barrier, and then I pressed gently on the brake to stop the car.

Then, I’m pretty sure, I pressed harder on the brake to stop the car, but my foot slipped off the edge of the brake pedal and thonked onto the gas pedal. I heard the sound of the engine revving, as it tried to press the car forward, seeming to be determined to get over that barrier. Which it ultimately did. You’ll be relieved to know that I did not slam into the wall of Walgreen’s. I slammed into a brick pillar, instead.

I was, as you might imagine, really rattled. REALLY RATTLED! I got out of the car to check on the pillar. Someone came out of Walgreen’s, looking somewhat alarmed.

She asked if I was all right and I said yes, even though I didn’t feel all right. I wasn’t injured; but I didn’t feel all right.

She looked at the car and the pillar and went back inside. I called David, who wasn’t home. And then I went into Walgreen’s. That Walgreen’s lady was back behind the cash register, checking out people and also talking on the phone. She saw me and said, “I didn’t know what to do. So I called Walgreen’s.” And I said, “Of course.”

After checking out the customers and finishing up her call, she said, “I’m the only one here.”

I said, “That doesn’t seem like a good idea.” Even though it was pretty early in the morning and there were few customers, I thought there should be at last two employees there.

She said, “Well, I’m the manager and I make out the schedules, and I just scheduled me for early this morning.”

Ah.

She said that Walgreen’s said they’ll need a police report. I said, “Of course.” So she called the police.

I called David again, and he was back home and he came on over. Then the police came. They were very nice.

I took pictures. The Walgreens manager took pictures. The police took pictures.

I was concerned about the pillar, which is brick. One of the officers eased my mind. He said that, under the brick, there’s a concrete reinforced steel core. “You don’t have to worry,” he said. “That pillar isn’t going anywhere. The roof isn’t going to cave in.” Whew!

Before too long, the manager was back at business, the police left, David took the car to the Buick dealership, and I, instead of running any more of those errands, went home. In David’s car. I was done for the day.

At the Buick dealership, the Collision place isn’t open on Saturdays. David took it back on Monday, which was a Monday holiday, so not open. On Tuesday, he was able to get a detailed estimate. I took that to the insurance place on Wednesday, along with the police report w/case number. An agent looked at everything and then called the main State Farm folks and gave them my name, and then handed the phone over to me. They knew my policy number and information. They asked, “Did the police come?” “Yes, and here’s the case number.” “You’ll need an estimate.” “I have that.” (A bit of silence.) “We’ll need to see if that dealership is on our list.” I gave him the name. “Yes, we work with that dealership. Your deductible is $1000.00.” “Ah.” I sort of got the idea that these conversations sometimes take much longer. Well, it’s not our first time. Okay. It is the first time I’ve run into a building.

David’s still mulling over whether we should pay the whole cost of the car repair, in case out premiums would rise substantially. And, the insurance company deals with Walgreen’s. I look when I drive by, but I haven’t noticed any work going on.

 

 

God is our mighty fortress, always ready to help in times of trouble. Our God says, “Calm down, and learn that I am God! All nations on earth will honor me.” The Lord All-Powerful is with us. The God of Jacob is our fortress.

Psalm 46:1, 10,11 (Contemporary English Version)

 

Calm down. Calm down. Calm down.

The Rest of the Story

| Joy, Patience, Peace

Getting those rings snipped off

What they looked like when we were done.

About a year ago, I wrote about having to get my wedding rings cut from my finger. A few weeks ago, I took the ring pieces back to the jewelers where I had that ring-removal-from-finger production. When they removed the rings, they had thought that the knuckle’s swelling would abate and they could patch up the rings. But, the knuckle hasn’t gone down because the knuckle bones have enlarged themselves permanently.

I asked the jewelers what did they think would be a solution. They described a process of putting a hinge into each ring, with an accompanying latch, which opens up. The ring can then be removed from the finger, and replaced again. That seemed like the only solution, so we started that process. They measured the giant knuckle for a ring size, and then measured for the ring size of the base of my finger.

 

They called back a few days later. They had contacted the company that make these latches and learned that they have a set of “rings” with latches in lots of sizes. They ordered a set and I went back when those ring sizer things arrived. I was able to see how the latch apparatus worked; I tried on three or four of them and chose the size that felt most comfortable. And, as we talked about those two rings and their latches, I said, “What if we just made one ring?” And the guy who actually makes the jewelry (and would have been putting in two hinges and two latches), said, “Yes. We could do that” (one hinge and one latch).

He used the gold from my engagement and wedding bands to make one new band, and put the solitaire on it.

Here’s how it works.

I do often complain about modern life. How fast things change and how I have to relearn or learn anew all the different apps/processes/organizational stuff that a new computer and/or a new phone has. I sometimes need to get out the fridge/microwave/dishwasher/etc. user manuals to figure out or remind me how to operate some aspect of the appliance. I should stop complaining, shouldn’t I, since I have a computer and phone and fridge and microwave and dishwasher and central heat and air and a sprinkler system and running water and a car. And a ring that can go on and off my finger. Easily.

 

God’s Spirit makes us loving, happy, peaceful, patient, kind, good, faithful,  gentle, and self-controlled. There is no law against behaving in any of these ways.

Galatians 5:22-23 (Contemporary English Version)

 

And, I should stop dwelling on how I’m sometimes grumpy and unhappy and frustrated, etc., and work harder on being more positive and thrilled and expectant and satisfied.

 

 

Old Man Winter’s Not Quite Done Yet, But It Feels Like It

| Patience

I really do know better than to put out tender new plants right now. However, this past Tuesday, after I put on my long overalls and two shirts and a big, heavy sweatshirt, I did go out and do some raking and some cleaning up in the yard. I went inside for some lunch, and before I went back out, I changed into my short overalls and a lighter weight top. No heavy sweatshirt. It was 72°. On Wednesday, the high temperature was 79°, and I planted some bright yellow pansies in the front bed and hung planters with yellow violas on the porch rail. Those plants are quite winter hardy and will bloom (if I make sure to water them when it doesn’t rain) all the rest of the winter and into early spring.

Thursday’s high was 68°, and that was at midnight. It quickly fell to the mid 50’s and stayed there, all day. And that’s the forecast for Friday. Saturday through Monday could see light freezes.

I have, of course, learned the hard way, not to be tricked by this fake springtime weather. After all, it is winter. A few years ago, snow fell in April. It was early April, but April, all the same. April in Central Texas.

We have had some light freezes.

The forecasts seem to indicate that we’ve had the last of the really cold weather. But I’m not going to be fooled by that. I’ll wait until it’s sensible and reasonable to plant anything new and to get those tender plants out of the FlowerHouse, where most of them are looking pretty healthy.

 

As the snow and rain that fall from heaven do not return until they have accomplished their purpose, soaking the earth and causing it to sprout with new life, providing seed to sow and bread to eat, so also will be the word that I speak; it does not return to me unfulfilled. My word performs my purpose and fulfills the mission I sent it out to accomplish.

Isaiah 55:10-11 (The Passion Translation)

  I love these words. I love the analogy that helps me recall, when I’m digging and planting and weeding and tending, that, just as the lovely results in my yard comes from the work I do there, the work I do for God also brings lovely results.

We Missed You!

| Love, Peace

I was chatting with a young friend of mine, recently. She’d missed school the day before, and I said, “I bet your friends missed you.”

She grinned a little bit, and shyly said, “Yeah.”

“And I bet they were happy to see you back today.”

She nodded her agreement.

And I had a great idea!

“You should take a picture of yourself and have a print made of it. Then, you can give it to one of your friends, and when you’re sick, she can put it on the table at where you usually sit at lunchtime. Then all your friends could see you and think about you, and maybe make a plan to text or phone you after school’s over.” (Texting isn’t allowed during school hours.)

I got a bit of a grin in return. Then I went on . . .

“No! I have a better idea! You should all have photos made! Then, when anyone’s sick, you can put her picture at the place where she usually sits. And the rest of you can think happy and supportive thoughts for your friend. Great idea, huh!”

I’m not completely sure she’s totally on board with the idea.

New plan–what if there are just name cards. And each friend can have the cards of their friends. And if they don’t want to put their cards out on a table, they can at least look, individually, at their friend’s name and think about their quick recovery. And, for the praying sort, they’ll have a nice photo to look at while they’re sending up those prayers.

Great idea! Don’t you think.

 

And when you come before God, don’t turn that into a theatrical production either. All these people making a regular show out of their prayers, hoping for stardom! Do you think God sits in a box seat? Here’s what I want you to do: Find a quiet, secluded place so you won’t be tempted to role-play before God. Just be there as simply and honestly as you can manage. The focus will shift from you to God, and you will begin to sense his grace.

Matthew 6:6 (The Message Translation)

Maybe I’d be a better prayer partner and warrior if I made a little photograph album with family and friend photos. I was about to suggest that I pull it out at red lights for some quick praying, but I’m thinking that I’d just hold up traffic. I can see I’m going to need to do some more thinking and planning for this project. And, praying.

 

 

 

 

Christmas Mystery

| Joy

Christmas gifts are all tied up with joy and anticipation and expectation. And, sometimes, wonder and confusion.
“Is that for the dog’s bed or is it for me?”
“Is this a blanket or a shawl?”
“Who gave me this, um, gift?”

Handmade gifts can be thoughtful and special and crafted with love. Or not.

Once, I, as a teenager, saw a great idea in a magazine. There were instructions for making cute elf-type house shoes. The idea was to use a sock as a pattern. Trace around the sock on a piece of paper and then add seam allowances and a cute, turned up, elvish toe. Cut out that pattern and use it to cut out fabric pieces, a set for the house shoe and a set for the lining. Sew around the foot part of the shoe and the lining. Nest those pieces together. Then turn under the top edges of the shoe and lining and sew them together. I added a nice embroidered edging on the tops and folded them over to make a cute cuff. Then I wrapped them up and waited for Christmas morning. When JoAnne opened them up, I was all ready for exclamations of how clever I was.

However, the sock I had used for the pattern was one of her Sunday socks, which was rather elasticized. In other words, they ended up waaaaay too small for her feet. But, it turns out that they were just perfect for her baby doll. So, not a complete disaster. But also not a great gift.

JoAnne is a wonderful shopper and always sends interesting gifts, which, as she will tell you, often come from half-price tables and bins. Or a Daiso store. Mid-December I got a box from her, full of wrapped gifts. And instructions. The packages that said, for example, “Gayle, from JoAnne and Jim,” were for under the tree. Packages that had just a name on them were for the stockings. I put all the gifts where they belonged.

On Christmas morning, I got a book about Grandmothers. My stocking gift was harder to identify. It was heavy, and it was roughly textured. I was uncertain what it was, exactly. Everyone weighed in. It seemed like it might be a paper weight. Or, I thought, maybe one of those pumice-like stones that are used to scrub away dead skin from heels and elbows. And there was some conversation about the symbol on the top.

“It looks like some kind of logo,” was one idea. “Yes, it looks familiar, but I can’t place it,” was another comment.

A couple of days later, when I was cleaning up and putting things away, I thought that I would take a photo and send it to Jeremy, the graphic designer, and see if he recognized the logo, as that’s sort of his job.

 

I got my phone to take the picture and aimed it at the enigmatic gift and thought, “oh.” It’s a lower case letter “g,” in a very fancy sort of font. We’d been looking at it from the wrong direction. I sent the photo to Jeremy anyway, and called him to see if he recognized the font. He didn’t know the font, but he did recognize it as a “g.”

I talked to JoAnne a few days later, to ask what exactly it was. She thought it was a paper weight, too. It came from a bargain table that had several other, identical, items, but there was a variety of letters available. She said that she did know it was a “g,” but that might have been because it was surrounded by a lot of other letters.

We had a happy Christmas. The tree’s still up. There doesn’t seem a reason to rush.

 

Sometimes we give the gifts. Sometimes we get the gifts. Jesus gave us the best gift. And because of that, we are the gifts.

 

 

Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms.

 (New International Version)

 Each of you has been blessed with one of God’s many wonderful gifts to be used in the service of others. So use your gift well.

(Contemporary English Version)

Every believer has received grace gifts, so use them to serve one another as faithful stewards of the many-colored tapestry of God’s grace.

(The Passion Translation)

1 Peter 4:10

 

I couldn’t decide which one I liked best.